


Within the Golden Glow

by Lacertae



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Alternate Universe - His Dark Materials Fusion, Angst, Dust (His Dark Materials), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Omnic Racism, References to Depression, Self Confidence Issues, Shambali (Overwatch), The Iris Is Dust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:13:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24745147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacertae/pseuds/Lacertae
Summary: *Three-parter Daemon AU*All of his life there had been three universal truths –that all humans had daemons, that only death could separate a person from their daemon, and that omnics could not have daemons.Eyes wide, Genji looked away from the meditation room, heart squeezing into his chest, leaving him breathless.Three truths –and one had shattered in front of him, just like that.
Relationships: Genji Shimada & Tekhartha Zenyatta, Genji Shimada/Tekhartha Zenyatta, Tekhartha Mondatta & Tekhartha Zenyatta
Comments: 8
Kudos: 63





	Within the Golden Glow

**Author's Note:**

> A couple notes: first of all, this AU is not connected to my other daemon AU fanfic, despite using the same names for the Daemons (not their shapes tho). sorry about that.
> 
> second: in this universe, if a person goes through something particularly dire or traumatic, their daemon can go through changes to reflect this.
> 
> first chapter is pre-ship. this fic comes after months of writer's block, but i rly needed to get something out, which is why this is getting posted before part 2 n 3 are ready.
> 
> i also sort of wanted to explore more of my ideas related to a HDM/OvW mashup, and most of those ended up being barely mentioned or touched upon in this... hopefully i can touch upon them way more in later chapters. (the Iris being Dust, Hanzo's blade, sharpened by his dragons, being subtle enough to damage daemon bonds, etc etc etc) I HAVE A LOT OF FEELS FOR HDM STUFF IN OVW SO BEAR WITH ME.

**Within the Golden Glow**

**Chapter 01: Birth**

The Shambali monastery was not an easy place to reach.

When the Shambali had been allowed to reside into the monastery, at the end of the war, they’d found cold stones and emptiness waiting for them, but had rebuilt everything stone by stone, turning the once-abandoned place back to life.

Lost among the peaks of Nepal –not quite the highest ones, but high enough to make travel difficult, especially in the winter months– the monastery was nested comfortably at the very tip of a mountain, secluded enough that most needed a guide to find the right path up the steep mountainside.

Technology had brought modern comforts and warmth to the once-empty halls of the monastery, but it had not been enough to truly banish the cold. The corridors were well-lit, flames dancing across bare walls and pavements, but even with the carpets draped as an attempt at fighting the harsh climate of the mountains, the stones were icy to the touch.

The room Genji had been offered was warm –warmer than most of the others– yet, there was enough human left in him to feel the cold seep through his body, chilling skin and circuitry.

Genji cared little for the open gardens, for the tall archways and the giant statues of omnics decorating the entrance to the halls, nor did he care for the empty corridors, whose winding paths led down unexplored rooms, and he cared even less for the footsteps of the monks passing by his door, never entering.

He supposed in a way, it was a small mercy, to be left to his own devices… not that he could _truly_ ever be alone.

At his side, curled up on the soft, thin cot was his daemon, sleeping deeply.

Once, so many years before, Genji would have been unable to catch her sleeping– Yuuna did not trust foreign places– but things had changed, since then.

Her ears did not twitch in her sleep, her chest barely raising and falling with every breath… Yuuna barely moved, her fur thin, the colours faded, looking more dead than alive, and at this thought Genji sharply looked away, squeezing the jolt of pain in his chest until it faded back into a dull ache.

She looked sick, just as Genji felt, and he could not blame the avalanche for that, though it had not helped; since the monks had rescued them from the snow, carrying them to the monastery, Yuuna had spent very little time awake, leaving Genji to face the omnic monks alone.

Surrounded as he was by metal and machine, with her daemon sleeping, Genji had little to focus on except their situation, and her health’s rapid decline, pushing the panic down each time it resurfaced.

Genji had long since known she would leave him behind, but he had not expected it would happen this soon –or here, of all places.

Buried in the snow of the avalanche, deaf to all except his own heartbeat, Genji had thought he would die, then –not in battle like the weapon he’d been, not facing an opponent, not roaring like the dragon’s spirit he carried within him… but quietly, suffocating slowly, and cold. Yet, perhaps such an end would have been better than being rescued, so his torment could continue.

In the end, they had been found.

Genji had caught a glimpse of metal tugging him out of a hole, white skies merciless as more snow continued to fall, but he had been too tired to think, and the next time he awoke, he was on this same cot, under the care of the Shambali monks.

 _Omnic_ monks.

Yet, even they could not fix what was wrong with him –warm him up, feed him… they’d done that and more, but the damage Genji’s body had sustained, his advanced circuits more complex than anything the monks had ever seen, had prevented them from truly helping. Overwatch had paid for him to be an advanced weapon, but now that they were gone, disbanded, he was left with no one skilled enough to give him check-ups, and slowly, his body was failing. Worse was… Genji had seen the careful glances they kept sending his way when they thought he was not looking.

Even omnic monks could tell that something was deeply wrong with him and Yuuna.

Humans were afraid, wary, some ready to curse at him, wanting him gone. These monks hid their fear better, but they could not fool Genji.

He’d been offered a place to rest, but their optics lingered on his daemon, too quiet, too dull, her eyes almost always empty when she was not asleep, and he could tell they wanted him gone, even while worrying for his health.

Genji knew the omnics could tell she was wrong – _he_ was wrong, but… truly, what could a machine understand of the sacred bond Genji shared with Yuuna?

 _Humans_ had daemons.

It was how things were, how they had always been, long before Genji had been alive, or even a twinkle of an idea in his parents’ minds.

Daemons were part of humans’ soul, in the form of animals, visible, vibrant with life and beauty. Genji had never considered a world where he did not have his precious Yuuna by his side… it was just impossible.

Omnics did _not_ have daemons.

Mechanical beings could not truly have a soul –even if they had the intelligence, and a mind, and could grow and adapt and think and _feel_ , omnics did not have a soul… and as such, could not have daemons.

In the past, when Genji had been young, the pushback against omnic rights had been louder, more aggressive. Even now, he knew, omnics were still considered second-rate citizens, if at all, ostracized and with little rights to their name.

To him such things had been nothing but background noise, as Genji had grown up in Japan, where technology was advanced enough that the minds of people were open enough to allow omnics at least _some_ rights, but he’d never been that interested. He’d never _cared_ … until the day Genji had fallen to his own brother’s hand, and found himself becoming more machine than man.

Now, trapped in a body made to kill, Genji could see the irony of it all –his brother might not have killed him, but he’d cursed him to a worst fate. For years, Genji had been forced to watch his own daemon slowly grow detached from him, duller the longer Genji spent with a robotic body, proof that he was losing his own soul. For years, Genji had tried to fight this truth, raging against it, furious, panicked… and then, when Overwatch had given up on him, he’d finally given up the fight.

With Overwatch disbanded, the only thread keeping him on track had snapped. Free of his ties, with no owner to direct him to fight, Genji had nothing else to distract him from Yuuna’s apathy.

And now…

He’d been at the Shambali monastery for a week, and every night Genji still woke up chased by nightmares, scrambling for something to hold on, reaching out for Yuuna’s body, fingers seeking her warmth to reassure himself they were still alive.

She barely moved, nowadays, but her heartbeat was still steady underneath his fingertips. Still alive. Still _there_.

Genji had no idea how long he had left, how long it would be until Yuuna was no longer by his side, but every night he grasped for that little reassurance, dizzy and exhausted and weary, and every day he ignored the questioning looks from the omnic monks, aware of their curiosity, their wariness, and what he knew was pity.

As unwilling as he was to remain with the Shambali, meek and trusting even with a dangerous stranger like him among them, Genji had no other option, not until he fully healed.

He just hoped he would not watch Yuuna disappear in front of him while here –surrounded by other machines with no soul, becoming fully like them would be…

Standing from the bed, quietly enough not to wake Yuuna, Genji moved to the window, peeking outside, urgent for something to take his mind away from his impending fate. Squinting into the glare of the sun on white snow, he leaned forwards, the movement making his ribs ache under the bandages compressing them.

He’d barely survived, but how long until he would not?

It was true that the omnics had tried to fix him, but they did not possess the kind of knowledge needed to help. No one could, not when Overwatch had disbanded, and he had no way to contact any of his previous doctors…

Or, rather… someone existed who _could_ , but it would require Genji to shift his allegiances, turn to Overwatch’s enemy for help, and… Genji couldn’t lie to himself, he had considered that option, but he had also rejected it. Not out of misplaced loyalty, as Overwatch had only ever treated him as a weapon, but simply because as broken as he was, not even a human anymore, Genji still had a moral compass.

He’d seen first place what awaited for him if he _did_ cross over –darkness, and oily, slick promises that would only cause more pain.

The thought that he could lose his soul while working for Talon… no. he could not risk it.

Still, it was useless to think about the what ifs. Genji’s body was not finely tuned anymore, it was failing on him like faulty machinery, alerts and warnings beeping red at the edge of his vision that he could do nothing about, and because of it, because of his weakness, the Blade of Overwatch had been caught by surprise, attacked and wounded by a group of bandits seeking the glory of the reward placed on his head by Talon.

And after them, as Genji had thought he’d escaped them unscathed… the avalanche.

What ridiculous notion –nature itself had shattered his delusions, overcoming him in an instant.

And now, Genji was trapped at the Shambali monastery.

In truth, he knew he could leave at any time, even while still wounded. It was not a cage, not even a gilded one. This was a nurturing place, a safe haven. Yet to Genji, the cold walls were closing in on him, threatening to choke him down under their silent, heavy weight, as with nothing to keep his attention, all he could think about was Yuuna.

But _Yuuna_ had wanted him to come here, she had looked at him, she’d spoken, after so long since he’d last heard her, and…

Just to listen to her voice, Genji would have done anything she’d asked of him.

The Yuuna of the past, belonging to a different Genji, a younger, cheerful and foolish version of him, had been happy, talkative, trusting… a past so far gone that Genji could barely remember it.

She’d also been different herself, back then –smaller. A flash of an image in the back of his mind, one he could never forget –feathers, a sharp cry, proud while flying high above him, where now she was trapped, tied to the ground, claws replacing talons, fangs instead of a beak.

Sometimes, daemons changed.

A flash of a blade, the roar of twin dragons, and Genji’s life had been shattered. Left for dead, clinging to life by a single thread, he’d watched his daemon twitch and cry in pain by his side, and then Overwatch had rescued him, picking up the pieces and putting them back wrong, and…

And just like he had, Yuuna had changed, too.

Reborn alongside him, losing her wings to gain a fury to rival Genji’s own, matching his new abilities, resilient, sharper, bigger…

From a proud sparrow-hawk to a deathly honey badger.

At first, nothing had seemed wrong, but with Genji’s own descent into fury and anger and pain, Yuuna had also suffered, but through an opposite path.

Day after day, Yuuna had lost her laughter, then her voice, growing quieter and quieter, until she travelled the world by his side more shadow than daemon, deathly when fighting, but empty.

Genji had watched her fade without being able to help, growing duller, hollow, like the machine he’d become.

He turned his back to the window, seeking her sleeping form, but the sight of it –motionless, immobile– sent another spike of panic down Genji’s back.

Gritting his teeth, he fought the anguish until it faded away again, heart thundering in his chest, breathing harshly.

One day, Yuuna would not wake up, disappearing from this world to leave him truly alone and then– then, Genji could be like every other machine. Soulless. Lonely. Cursed to walk where she could not.

The mountains tipped with snow had been just another place to travel through, nothing more than that, except that the closer he got to the famed Shambali monastery, the more Yuuna would look ahead, eyes flickering with more life than Genji had ever seen her, and when she had spoken to him one morning, her tone hushed and raw from disuse, Genji had suddenly felt something within his chest that felt almost like hope.

 _“There,”_ she had murmured. _“We can get… help.”_ Then, exhausted, she’d faded back, but Genji’s determination had flared in its place.

If Yuuna wanted him to climb the mountains to seek the Shambali out, Genji would do it for her, no questions asked.

He did not truly believe the Shambali could help –if his body was shutting down, it would only be a mercy… but he could not give in, not until there was but a flicker of light in Yuuna’s eyes. Even if it meant he’d have to be at the mercy of monks who understood nothing of the fading tug within Genji’s chest that felt so much like a death sentence, like his time was running out.

He would stay here, just a little longer.

Forcing his thoughts away from Yuuna, Genji returned his attention to the outside, and a figure advancing through the snow covering the courtyard had Genji’s eyes snap to it.

Though most of the monks looked the same to him, similar shapes and faceplates and metal, there was something weirdly _familiar_ to the omnic walking slowly towards the main entrance, followed a few steps back by a hulking figure –this one a human.

Finally, as they got close enough for Genji to squint against the snow glare, he realised the familiarity was sparked by the nine orbs gently circling the omnic’s neck, and his eyes widened slightly.

This was the omnic who had rescued him after the avalanche had almost buried him alive, orbs surrounding him like a halo of golden light. Genji remembered little of that, only that somehow, the omnic had dragged him out, and had gotten him and Yuuna to the monastery. The Shambali head had mentioned that his rescuer had left the monastery not long after taking Genji in, but Genji hadn’t cared to ask why.

Still…

Genji clenched his hands into fists at his sides.

This omnic had saved him, and despite the thoughts circling around in his mind and the displeasure he still felt, Genji still felt a sliver of gratefulness.

Despite their lack of a soul, omnics could feel emotions, and in the case of these Shambali monks, even follow a spiritual path, and though Genji had cared little in the past, with the impending doom of his own fate had come an acceptance of sorts.

His eyes never left the two figures making their way towards the monastery, and that was why he caught a movement in the air above them, glancing up just in time to see a bird twirl in mid-air.

It was small, feathers a mix of grey, brown and pale, faded pink, unremarkable, and did not seem to mind the human and the omnic below, so Genji recognised it as a daemon –the man’s daemon.

Free, unchained, the daemon was rejoicing its freedom.

The glare of the snow had him squinting, and the bird’s plumage made it hard for him to focus even against the greyed sky, but Genji’s eyes followed the daemon bird’s circled flight, longing for the kind of freedom only a daemon could ever feel, but as he watched the bird’s mindless twirls, a stray ray of sun peeked from the clouds, and washed over the daemon’s open wings.

Genji’s grey and white world cracked and colours bled through again, the bird’s iridescent feathers shining like glowing jewels under that single ray of sun, flaring with colour and life, and his heart skipped a beat.

He would have missed this, if he hadn’t been looking, if his eyes hadn’t been augmented, if he hadn’t been here, in this moment, looking out from the monastery’s window –but he had been there, and somehow the beauty of that moment had brushed against his mind.

Then, the sun disappeared behind the clouds again, and with that the bird flapped and spun around, the colours gone.

One fraction of a second, and now Genji missed the sight, longing burning in his chest.

That plain daemon had sparkled with beauty, and Genji had witnessed it, and something inside him felt soothed, in a way he could not explain.

Intrigued by the man the daemon was bonded to, Genji looked past the omnic to stare at him, though the cold meant the man was hidden under layers of coats and furs, and followed them until they reached the monastery’s entrance, disappearing from view.

Feet moving on their own accord, Genji spared one last glance to his daemon before leaving the room.

Genji’s commander, Gabriel, had forced Genji and Yuuna’s bond to stretch, and Genji couldn’t find fault in that, even while missing Yuuna by his side –but as a weapon, he was only as sharp as he could make himself, and the fear of his enemies when facing a daemonless man was a weapon in itself.

There was no painful tug as he walked down the corridor of the monastery, careful not to make noise, but he still felt a pang of regret, thinking about Yuuna sleeping alone. He knew very well that any moment could be the last, but waking her when she needed rest, only to have her accompany him quietly, dully, uncaring…

No.

She would stay, and rest, and he satisfy his curiosity and offer his thanks to the omnic who had saved him, at the same time.

It was no implicit trust that allowed him to leave Yuuna behind either, no thought offered to the possibility of danger coming from the monks. Meek as they were, they did not worry Genji. Even as she was, Yuuna would be able to protect herself, if they thought to attack, but… he did not think they would. Not after they’d saved them from the avalanche.

The trip to the main hall was quick, and Genji found nobody on his way there, his footsteps light and quite despite the hesitance of his wounds, and he could hear the joyous welcomes ahead of him as he hesitated behind a corner, senses stretched out, before peeking past the cornerstones.

“Welcome back, brother Zenyatta,” one of the other monks greeted him, forehead array flashing purple. “Was the trip alright?”

Zenyatta –so that was the omnic’s name. Genji filed the information away but made no move to reveal himself, content with watching from afar.

“It was uneventful. The snow has piled up this past week, and it would not be a safe trip to make at night, but we made it alright,” Zenyatta replied, synth humming. His voice was warm, pleasant, somehow fitting his lithe figure and meek, round faceplate features. “But do tell me… how is our guest faring?”

Genji stiffened, somewhat surprised –the omnic’s first thought when coming home was to inquire about his health?

“He is resting in his room together with his daemon,” the other monk replied easily, making a motion towards the direction Genji was, prompting him to hide behind one of the columns, not wanting to be seen yet. “Master Mondatta made sure to let him know he’ll be welcome to stay here as long as needed. He is still recovering.”

“Good. Then,” he turned towards his companion, the human. “I am sorry to ask you so much when you have only just arrived at my request, but if you come with me, we will let my brother know I’m back, and then we can go meet our guest.”

His words chilled Genji to the core.

Why would this omnic, Zenyatta, want him to meet this man?

Had Genji been too hasty in trusting that those meek monks would be safe to be around simply because they’d saved his life?

If Zenyatta was leading this man to him, the only reason Genji could think would be an ambush, a killer specifically called to deal with him, and Genji’s thoughts darkened instantly. He should have known, no person, no _omnic_ , could offer this much for free.

What had the monks gained from betraying Genji like this? They’d saved him, and now were selling him off for… what, exactly?

As he watched, eyes narrowed behind his visor, the burly man removed the hat from his head, revealing scruffy, curly black hair and a beard covering half of his face, huffing, cheeks darkened by the cold from outside.

He looked strong, Genji reasoned, eyeing him sceptically, but Genji could take him, probably, even while hurt…

But where was his daemon? The bird flying before was nowhere, and Genji’s thoughts screeched to a halt. They were inside the halls of the monastery, far enough that the bird would not be able to stay outside, unless their bond had been stretched like Genji and Yuuna’s had…

But very few knew of the possibility, and fewer wished to try, or succeeded if they did make an attempt.

The only ones who found such a thing useful were people who belonged to Genji’s world.

Genji stepped backwards until the shadows of the curtains draped over the columns of the corridor fell over his frame, hiding him from view, and only stopped when his shoulders bumped into the edge of the wall.

If his hands were shaking minutely, he did not pay it any attention.

For a second –a fraction of an instant– Genji almost followed his instinct to run, to rush to the room he’d left Yuuna in, grab her and leave.

With the trap the monks had set, Genji’s chances of survival would rise if he left now, before they realised he’d overheard them, and Genji had no idea what sort of skills the burly man had… surely, enough to face Overwatch’s weapon…

He could not stay. Endanger himself, endanger Yuuna–

Footsteps coming his way startled Genji, and he flinched as he realised Zenyatta and his companion were walking towards where he was laying in wait, hidden from view but only barely.

Stay, and face an unknown enemy, or leave. Run, escape like a coward to live another day.

Genji had known pride once, but now he knew better, and his body tensed, fingers digging into the stones behind him, ready to bolt–

The footsteps were right behind the corner.

Acting without thinking, Genji slipped out of the window, feet landing on the wet ground outside, paying attention not to touch any of the freshly fallen snow, as it would give away his presence, and waited until the footsteps moved on.

After waking up at the monastery, groggy and confused but grateful to be still alive, Genji had forced himself to map the monastery, check the exits, explore where he could, if only for his own peace of mind.

It had been slow, and painful, to force his body to move, hungry and weak, wounds still fresh, and he’d only mapped out a fraction of the area.

He knew where Mondatta’s quarters were, though the monk rarely slept there, preferring to spend his time meditating in his office or in the meditation hall. He knew where the kitchens were, and the stable with the goats and the coop with the chickens outside, near the garden with the vegetables. He knew where the infirmary was, familiar to him under the light of the moon.

It had been enough, then, but now he cursed, wondering if he should have pushed his body further and mapped the grounds surrounding the monastery as well, if only to know where the roads leading to the town at the base of the mountain were.

Then, the rush of anger and rage faded with every harsh, short breath of the cold air, and Genji froze.

It was not possible the monks knew his identity. He’d only appeared rarely whenever Overwatch was dispatched to deal with things, and never when he’d worked with Talon. His helmet hid his face, but it was nondescriptive and boring enough that no one could connect him to the killing cyborg from a deposed organization.

And if the monks had somehow figured out his identity, how could they contact someone in so little time?

Any enemy of his, of Overwatch, would not come alone, one-on-one. There was no honour code there to follow, they would come in greater number, and overpower him.

Genji licked his dry lips, exhaling slowly through his nose.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he forced his body to relax.

Then he took off, running along the edge of the monastery’s wall, catching up with the figures of Zenyatta and his companion as they stopped by the meditation hall, where Mondatta and some of the other monks were.

Slowly hoisting himself past the window’s edge, Genji shuffled closer to the archway to the meditation room, frowning behind his mask but willing to wait a moment more.

“Master, I am back.”

Zenyatta’s tone was soft and echoed with warmth. Genji’s heart ached at that, the emotion it evoked inside him unfamiliar to hear in a synthetic voice.

“Welcome back, my light.” Mondatta’s voice answered, the same warmth in his own synth. “Were your travels successful?”

“That they were, and then my feet carried me back home. Master, please meet my companion –esteemed Engineer Wang Wei.”

Genji blinked.

An… engineer…?

“Welcome to our monastery, master Wang Wei,” Mondatta hummed his welcome, a rustle of clothes indicating he was standing up. “I must thank you for coming on such short notice to offer your aid.”

Against his own agitation, Genji found himself peeking from the corner once again.

Mondatta stood tall in front of Zenyatta and the man, Wang Wei, the omnics’ lithe forms clashing with the man’s bulging muscles, yet managed to still demand most of the attention with his casual, open gestures.

This was the omnic who spoke in front of dissenters for omnics’ rights, and though Genji had met him before, now he felt for the first time a sliver of respect for him, feeling the true strength of his mind as he appeared so relaxed and at ease.

Genji’s eyes then moved to Zenyatta, observing the way his orbs swirled placidly around him. His stance was different –slightly hunched over, his back not held straight like Mondatta’s was, shoulders lowered as if he was attempting to look smaller… it made Genji frown behind his visor, uncertain of the reasons for such a pose.

The man –Wang Wei– looked even bigger, this close, but his lips were stretched in a small, open smile, and the strength Genji could feel from him was tempered by the obvious relaxed, open stance.

Exhaling slowly, Genji almost moved away from the corner when he caught the flutter of wings inside the meditation hall, and a bird landed on the rafters of the ceiling, shuffling around.

Genji almost relaxed at the sight, reassured by the presence of the man’s daemon, before his brain caught up with him and he narrowed his eyes.

The bird perched there was not brown or grey –it was white. There were no iridescent colours on its wings at all.

A quick look at the meditation room from his position of advantage gave Genji a good view of who was there –only omnic monks deep in meditation, each sitting on their own small, red mat. No human.

His frown not leaving his face, Genji inched forwards, but he was too far to get a better look, senses still spread out to avoid getting ambushed from behind.

It was possible the bird was simply a companion animal, or a stray, or…

Yet, Genji could not relax, eyeing the animal suspiciously before a movement from the man, Wang Wei, caught his attention once again.

“It was no bother. If what Master Zenyatta says is true, I might face a good challenge, and there is nothing an expert enjoys more than that!” his voice was almost boisterous, and deep.

“That is true for us as well,” Zenyatta nodded, sounding amused. “Unfortunately, I am not an expert in your field, but we have it on good authority that our guest’s tech is damaged, and by his own admission he has had trouble finding technicians to do regular maintenance to his body. I know it might sound preposterous of me to make this decision without consulting him first, but I fear he would reject any help if offered in theory only, as he seemed displeased with our attempts to help. Having an expert with me might sway his decision. Even just a check-up would assuage our fears about his health.”

Oh.

Genji’s shoulders dropped in shock, the tension in his muscles fading, leaving behind a deep ache.

Rather than betray him, the monk had simply left the monastery to find someone who could help Genji, despite his own resistance and lack of faith.

It was futile, really –Overwatch’s mechanics, technicians and engineers were some of the best in the world, and they’d worked relentlessly on Genji’s body for years before he’d been forced to leave. Only people of that calibre could ever hope to be able to understand the schematics of his circuitries and body– yet Genji felt touched by Zenyatta’s determination to offer him aid, even in these conditions.

Zenyatta knew nothing of Genji’s life –he’d given them his name only because he thought it would not betray his identity, but he’d been tight-lipped on details about himself, cagey and distrustful, and even then, the monk had still done more than he should have out of the good of his… core.

Slumped against the corner, Genji took a deep, steadying breath.

The loss of animosity had left him almost too tired to move, muscles aching, and he paused to collect his strength, until a small shuffling nose from the meditation hall behind Zenyatta and Mondatta attracted his attention again.

Mondatta had heard it as well, and turned around sharply, optics searching around the hall for the cause of the sudden noise.

Zenyatta also spun around to look, and as Genji peeked from behind the corner, curious about

what was happening, he caught Zenyatta’s forehead array flare in surprise.

“Is he…?” Zenyatta murmured, in awe.

Wang Wei seemed surprised and confused as well, a frown replacing his easy smile, and he did not move when Zenyatta and Mondatta stepped away from him, brushing past the other meditating monks until they stopped in front of one of them.

Genji took this chance to shuffle closer, out of the corner but still hidden from sight by the big tapestries on the stone walls, keeping himself out of sight, grateful for the wide, open windows that allowed him to look into the meditation hall without having to enter the room.

The omnic that had attracted Mondatta’s attention was sitting in the fourth row, somewhere in the middle. It was a tall model, even while sitting, bulky even, with square shoulders and a three-point array, the metal of his chassis tinged blue.

He was shivering, but otherwise seemed to be deep into meditation.

Nothing appeared to be wrong, but Genji was overcome all at once by a weird, tingly feeling, like the air around him was suddenly charged up with static.

The air was vibrating, and Genji stuttered, his mind stupidly wondering why it felt like the world was taking a sudden, deep breath in preparation for something–

The unknown omnic jolted, little sparkles of omnic energy flickering across his frame, and then, under Genji’s eyes, his body sparkled with gold speckles.

“Ah–!” Zenyatta gasped, the sound elated, joyous, but Genji’s eyes could not move from the glowing omnic.

For one single instant, light burst from within his chassis, turning metal transparent, and Genji’s eyes widened as he could see the hidden circuitry within him as a ripple went through the air around them, expanding from the monk–

Golden light dripped from thin air in front of the monk, thin, powder that looked translucent and glowing from the inside, pooling in mid-air as it took shape, slowly, trembling as it fought to _become_.

Then, wings exploded out of floating pile of glittering gold.

A neck stretched out, the glow coalescing, and where before had been _nothing_ now there was a duck, feathers fading from gold to black and brown, ungracefully falling onto the floor at the omnic’s feet as he stuttered and onlined again, forehead array burning blue.

The duck quacked out loud, the sound startling in the sudden silence of the hall, and the unknown omnic gasped, shoulders shaking, as the animal extended its neck towards him, met halfway by a trembling hand.

“M… mine?” there was such reverence in the omnic’s tone that Genji felt like an intruder, even though his brain did not catch up to what he was seeing until the duck seemed to hiccup, and then it answered, voice soft and gentle and feminine.

“Mine,” she murmured back, the same awe that had been in the omnic’s tone in hers as well.

Then they were into one another’s arms, shaking and trembling, curled together in a ball so tight they seemed to disappear into one another.

Around them, the omnics roused from their meditation, hushed whispers of congratulations surrounding the duo like a blanket of welcome, and Genji’s eyes, wide and shocked, moved from one to the other, uncomprehending, before returning to the duck, nested so comfortably in the omnic’s arms that she looked like she’d belonged there since forever.

“What is your name?” Mondatta asked, loud enough to overcome the sudden noise around them.

The duck extended her neck to look at him, bowing slightly in front of the Shambali leader. “Soneeya,” she answered, before hiding her beak back into her omnic’s chest.

“Then you are welcome among us, Soneeya, may your journey among us be as joyous as your birth was.” Mondatta tilted his head in a bow, hands folded behind his back, and like a switch, all omnics surrounding them bowed in unison, including Zenyatta.

Wang Wei, just as amazed and confused as Genji was, remained standing in a corner, surprised, then hurriedly bowed his head as well, understanding the hushed importance of the gesture.

Genji fell back against the wall behind him, body suddenly weak, brain attempting to wrap around what he’d just seen.

Coalescing from nothingness, a shower of glitter giving birth to…

A daemon.

It _couldn’t_ be.

Omnics could not have daemons –they were created by humans, beings of metal and circuits, doomed to be secondary citizens, to be used and abused, never fully treated as equals.

All of his life there had been three universal truths –that all humans had daemons, that only death could separate a person from their daemon, and that omnics could _not_ have daemons.

Eyes wide, Genji looked away from the meditation room, heart squeezing into his chest, leaving him breathless.

Three truths –and one had shattered in front of him, just like that.

He could not deny what he had seen. What he’d heard…

Over the loud, cheerful sounds coming from the hall, Genji heard the soft, familiar flutter of wings and turned around just in time to catch the white bird descend from the rafters to land on Mondatta’s shoulder, talons digging into his tunic, nuzzling his faceplate.

And as if summoned from places unseen, Genji watched as more animals… more daemons… appeared in the room, called forth by the birth of one of their own.

There weren’t enough for all omnics inside, but there were so many… too many. Not a single human there, yet all of them were daemons.

Tiny mice, lizards and birds, and even a buzzing beetle, fluttering around the duo, loud in their noises as their companions were.

 _Daemons_.

Omnics… with daemons.

“So… it was true all along,” Wang Wei murmured, and Genji’s head snapped towards him. “I heard hushed words of omnics with daemons, but I never believed they held any truth to them.”

Zenyatta was the one who turned towards him, body open and welcoming. “We do not openly proclaim such things,” he answered, his voice soft, and even without expressions Genji could tell he was joyous. “The pushback against us would hinder what progress we are making for omnic rights. They would call us deviated, they would say… some already do… that omnics steal daemons from humans, ensnaring them as our own.”

Wang Wei swallowed thickly, shaking his head. “Not if they could see…” he made a motion towards the omnic and his duck daemon, his fingers trembling. He was touched, shaken by what he’d seen, but not cowed. “How could _that_ be a deviation? I can see the love. I can feel it as much as I can feel my own love for Mei Mei.” He tapped a finger against his coat, and Genji saw a small, wriggly field mouse peek from the thick fabric folds, its nose twitching in the air.

“Yet, we have faced rejection even by those who have seen it.” Mondatta murmured, pressing one hand on Zenyatta’s back, and the daemon perched on his shoulder opened its wings. Now that he could see it better, Genji could recognise it as a dove. “They say it must have been technology, or a hologram, or evil magic that created our daemons, rather than the Iris embracing us in its light, giving us such a gift through the Dust.”

“Then they would be liars,” Wang Wei bit out, but even his tone had softened with disappointment.

It was no secret that many humans needed little reasoning to attack those who were different.

Still, even as Zenyatta and Mondatta spoke softly with the engineer, Genji found himself stumbling back, putting distance between himself and the meditation hall.

It was too much for him, and he needed to leave.

His blind steps brought him near an open window, and he breathed harshly the cool air, trying to calm his racing heart, forehead pressed into the wall, though with his visor on, he could not feel the cold.

It felt stupid, to be so overwhelmed, but Genji felt like he’d been punched in the face, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the golden light, its powdery look, the way it had shrunk into itself, before exploding into a daemon right in front of him, and now…

“You seem conflicted.”

Startled, Genji gritted his teeth and almost lashed out, his body taut and ready to fight, twisting around–

Only to see a bird perched on the windowsill at his side, not close enough that he could touch it, but close enough he could notice the colourful feathers on its wings. It was the bird he’s glimpsed earlier, brown and deceivingly normal, if not for the jewel-like iridescent colours that had looked so beautiful, touched by the sun.

A daemon, but whose…?

“Were your core beliefs so rooted that seeing an omnic with a daemon destabilized you in such a way?” the bird daemon tilted its head. Its voice was deep, but had a weird intonation, and Genji could not truly determine its gender. “Or…” the bird hopped closer, and Genji flinched. “… is it perhaps something else… less about _us_ … and more about _you_?”

The sharp words penetrated Genji’s mind like knives, and he stumbled back, away from the daemon.

He gritted his teeth, suddenly feeling the weight of solitude when confronted like this by a foreign daemon.

“Is it customary to run a guest through such invasive questions?” he bit down the sharper words he’d wanted to use, but his tone was thick with them nonetheless.

“I would not know, as rarely we have guests who look as shattered as you do,” the daemon replied, caustic enough that Genji felt uprooted. Then, something in the daemon’s posture softened. “Please do not worry. No soul within this monastery will lift a hand against u or wish you harm. Forgive my words, but shaken as you were, I wondered if perhaps the only reason you accepted to stay was because you had no other choice. If you truly do not wish to continue healing side by side with creatures you detest, it would be no trouble to arrange for your transportation down to the village at the bottom of the mountain. We have faced enough hatred to know it would not be conductive to healing.”

Fumbling with words, confused by the daemon’s attitude and enraged at the assumption, Genji bit down what he’d wanted to say. Any other time, his rage would have swallowed him whole, allowing him to lash out first, and think later… but not this time.

Not when the opponent was no human –Genji might have been a weapon, but even Overwatch had never asked him to raise his hand on a daemon.

The fury faded like it had come, allowing Genji to admit, even if only to himself, that the assumption hadn’t been too far from the truth, even if it stung to think.

“… no,” he finally said, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I hold no hatred for… omnics.”

“Hmmm.” The daemon did not look convinced, but nodded its head anyway. “Yet you hold no love, either.” Then it seemed to flinch. “Forgive me, once again. It has been said about me that I often push where I should stay.”

Despite the anger still simmering inside him, Genji found himself fighting off a snort, grateful his visor hid his expression. “You are an omnic’s daemon.”

The words tasted weird on his lips –like a lie, except it was not one.

The daemon’s wings extended at its sides, and its chest puffed out in pride. “Yes. I belong to the one who saved you.”

Ah –that… Genji thought that explained a lot, yet nothing at all.

“I must… thank you.” The words sounded untrue, but Genji had promised himself he would say them, though he had not expected it would be to a daemon. “For saving my life.”

“We did not save you.” And there –Genji did not miss the bitterness. He opened his mouth, wanting to ask what the daemon meant, but it continued on, without allowing him to interject. “We brought you here, but you are still wounded –and it has worried Zenyatta and I greatly.”

It was weird –to stand in a corridor of the monastery, speaking to a daemon without its human… without its omnic. It was simply not something that was usually done, unless under duress –talking to someone else’s daemon was bad etiquette, even for people like Genji.

Yet, maybe because the daemon was an omnic’s, maybe because Genji was still drowning in disbelief and shock, it felt different from talking to another person… less stifling. Less judging, less _wrong_.

Still, for such a bland, unassuming daemon, under the surface there was steel –and that meant its other half, Zenyatta the omnic, hid behind his meek appearance the same kind of steel.

“My wounds will heal,” he replied, shaking his head. The daemon tilted its head to the side, appearing almost stubborn. “They will, and that is only because you found me and helped me.”

“We did not help you enough,” the daemon murmured, and now, rather than bitterness, Genji heard grief instead. “We could find aid for your body, but that isn’t what worries us.”

Genji flinched, unable to hide the raw, instinctive reaction as his thoughts went back to Yuuna.

The daemon sighed, the sound quiet, and sad. “You came here for help –and help will be offered to you. If you stay, we will do our best to aid you and your daemon.”

“Why?” Genji couldn’t help the way his tone shifted to something defensive, distrustful. No one had ever noticed before how Yuuna was different –the fact that the monks could, that they had noticed right away, scared of him not for his being a weapon, but for Yuuna…

Yet, even as he asked, he knew it was stupid. The Shambali were pacifists, fighting for equality of omnic and human… and though Genji had little trust in others, and even less in himself, and that had caused his small lapse of judgement earlier, he knew they had no ill will towards him.

Still, he felt mulish at the thought of them helping _him_. Accepting someone’s help, wary of receiving pity, of being seen as weak…

“What could you even _do_ to help?” he hissed out next, and moved quickly to distance himself from the daemon, fingers twitching with the sudden need to lash out, even as he fought that urge. “Do you even know what is wrong with…” _‘her?’_ “… me?”

He’d expected to sound aggressive, or upset –instead, he just sounded tired.

The daemon fluffed up its neck feathers. “Do you?” it asked back.

Genji snorted. “No.”

The bird daemon huffed. “Except you think you have all the answers.”

The weird knot in his chest tightened as anger rushed through him again. He could not understand this daemon –its attitude infuriating, switching from gentle to pushy to annoying only made Genji feel worse. He was tired, and he’d just witnessed something impossible, and now… now he was talking with that impossible thing, talking about Yuuna like he’d never been allowed to, when he’d only ever had himself until then, when he’d had to face this all on his own.

What did the daemon even know about him, about his pain, about Yuuna fading away, about his fears, and his anger, and–

“It doesn’t matter,” he bit out. “I have accepted it. You do not need to offer your pity or your help to someone like me.”

“Why do you think it pity?”

Having not expected that question, Genji turned around, though he kept the daemon in sight, not willing to offer such an opening this easily. “Why would it not be? I have seen the way you… your omnics treat me. Their stares, their stances, hesitant to pass close to me. Wary, afraid. I know it’s not because of this,” he motioned to his body, the sleek metal covered in dents and scratches, but still new, still deathly, still so obviously more advanced than they were. “They know something is wrong with–” _‘Yuuna’_ “–me, and are afraid.”

“Ah, so you do think you know all… except all you know is what you believe is the truth, and not the truth. Were you not also convinced that omnics such as them could not understand the precious, delicate bond between daemon and human?” the sarcasm in the daemon’s tone had Genji freeze –because it was the truth, and it scalded him enough that his face behind his visor burned in shame.

That he’d been so obvious, even when he hadn’t meant for them to know…

“How could you even know of this,” he spoke again, turning to glare at the daemon. “Were you not gone with your omnic?”

Laughter burst from the daemon’s tiny body like an explosion of noise. “No, I was not. He did not wish to leave when you were so weak and damaged, and left me behind to guard you.”

The shock that cursed through Genji’s body felt like a punch. So that monk… Zenyatta could also travel far from his own daemon, like Genji could…?

“I have stayed at the monastery, hidden with the other daemons in front of you. We are not many –it is a slow progress, for the monks to touch the Iris– but we are enough that our eyes are everywhere. I know you went out at night, in your weakened state, to explore the monastery.”

“You–”

“I did not speak of it with Mondatta or Śānti.”

Śānti was probably the name of Mondatta’s daemon, the dove, Genji thought distantly, body thrumming with energy. “Why?”

“Because I understood it was a way to be in control of a situation so dire. It helped, and you never strayed too far from the monastery walls, else I would have said something.”

It sounded innocent enough that Genji snorted again, surprised yet again at the daemon’s ability to shift between moods so easily.

“The fact remains that you assumed much of us, without being open enough to listen, or see. Do you see, now? Will you listen?”

Genji’s thoughts screeched into a halt, mind returning to the daemon’s birth he had just witnessed, and he froze.

These monks had souls. These monks –these omnics– had daemons.

Machines with souls. And if they had daemons, then…

Stumbling until he hit the wall with his back, a wave of weakness rushing through him like fire, Genji found himself breathless.

He’d always thought –he was a machine, reconstructed from his old body. A weapon. He’d thought this to be the cause for Yuuna’s change.

He’d thought, he’d assumed–

If he was not losing Yuuna because of this –if those born-machines could have daemons, could have souls, then he was not losing his own. Yuuna was not disappearing, fading from him, because he was becoming more machine than man.

There was no race to lose her because of it, because of something Genji could not control, something that had been caused by others. It was not because Genji was becoming an aberration, that Yuuna was slipping out of his grasp.

But if not this… then why?

“ _Why is Yuuna like this, if I’m not to blame?_ ”

The words stumbled out of his mouth tasting like poison, eyes wide and unseeing, his tone anguished and lost as Genji realised, for the first time, that what he’d assumed would be his end was in truth nothing more than his own frantic, pained delusions.

“Genji.”

The daemon’s whisper of his name seeped past the cloud of panic that had taken over him, and startled enough by that, Genji’s head snapped to the bird, even as his fingers grasped with the edge of his mouthpiece, scratching at it yet unwilling to remove it in the presence of someone else, even if that someone was a daemon.

“Forgive me,” the daemon murmured, gently. It did not move from the windowsill, though for a moment, it seemed to Genji that he’d wished to, and the thought sent a shiver down his back, almost as grounding as the daemon’s voice was. “It seems my earlier words rang truer than I thought they could. Your core beliefs were truly shattered by finding out about us.”

Swallowing thickly, Genji shook his head, still unable to speak.

“The Shambali follow the path of the Iris,” the daemon spoke, its voice calm yet strong, tugging Genji’s attention back on its words, “for many, that is spiritual, but it means more than a simple belief. The closer we connect with the Iris, the easier it is for us to see, and feel, the threads connecting daemons to their partners. Dust is part of the Iris, part of us, and it is because of this connection that we were aware that something was wrong with your bond with Yuuna. It has not snapped –it would have been more obvious, for you as well, if that was the case… but it is… it looks fractured.” The daemon shook its head. “We would need you to share your painful memories, and even then, I cannot promise we would be able to help, but… I beg of you to let us try.”

Genji’s mouth snapped shut.

His first instinct was to ask, once again, why they wanted to help so badly, when Genji had done nothing but distrust them and cause trouble. Part of him wanted to run away even now, overwhelmed by the truths he’d uncovered, by his wounds, by the realisation that machines could have a soul, and what it meant for him.

Part of him thought that without that belief, watching Yuuna fade away fully would be worse, because now he did not even know why it was happening. Because it wasn’t his fault, now, the anger he’d felt at himself tasted like disappointment.

He’d aimed so much hatred at himself, at Overwatch, that realising it had been misplaced only made him want to lash out.

But he was tired, and Yuuna’s plea was, in the end, what stopped him.

 _“There,”_ she had murmured to him, pointing at the Shambali monastery, _“we can get… help.”_

Had he not wished to do all he could, even if he didn’t believe it would help?

“What… what can I do?”

“It might be more painful,” the daemon told him. “To uncover such truths from your past will mean drag them back to the surface, relieve them.”

The daemon could not see under his visor, but Genji’s lips stretched in a wry, mirthless smile. “There is no other option,” he said.

“So, there is steel, hidden under all this blood.” The daemon did not look away from him for a long moment, then its stance softened, feathers puffed out, and it added, in a gentler tone, “thank you.”

There was irony there, in thanking Genji for accepting to be helped –yet, Genji understood, somehow. “Should I not say those words myself?” he murmured, almost to himself.

The daemon snorted, the tilt of its head expressing its amusement. “Not until we find a way to help.”

“Well then.” Genji straightened, taking a deep breath. “I will wait for that day. I hope you will not disappoint.”

Despite looking unassuming and small, the daemon seemed to grow into itself as it spread its wings, conveying a strength that surprised even Genji. “We will not.”

A beat, then the majestic, proud bird stuttered, wings folded back into itself. “Ah, Zenyatta will be displeased,” it said, flinching, much to Genji’s surprise. “I forgot to introduce myself.”

Hidden behind his visor, Genji’s lips curled upwards into a tiny, invisible smile.


End file.
